The New Cook
by all continues to be well
Summary: actbw: James Sirius Potter is opinionatedly curious about the Leaky Cauldron's new cook. [James Sirius Potter/Sally Longbottom]


"Back again, Potter?"

"Waiting for me, Hall?"

Nina smiled at him and, in quite an unprofessional fashion, walked around the bar to greet James with a hug. "You know you're starting to look a little bit desperate visiting the pub on a daily basis."

"I just want to see who this bloke is," James retorted. "Frankie Boy has disappeared off as usual and as a good mate I am taking it upon myself to do the proper thing for him and make sure his sister isn't spending her time with some psycho."

"I mean, she has to spend time with him, James: he's the new cook."

"I don't understand why Hannah couldn't have just hired a female cook."

The pretty barmaid shrugged, wandering off to clear a table.

It was another ten minutes before Sally appeared. She, like Nina, didn't seem surprised to see James Potter there, although unlike Nina she wasn't entirely amused by it. Coming out of the kitchen, she took her place behind the bar and began to help Nina pouring drinks. As it was a Tuesday and only three o'clock, the place was basically empty leaving James an open opportunity to talk.

"How is the new cook going?" he asked Sally.

Sally gave a small shrug: "He's fine. How was lounging around the house all day doing nothing?"

"Well I've come in here twice today so it isn't exactly 'nothing'."

Her opinion of how he spent his day refused to budge. Seeing this in her expression, he added, "But yeah, it was fun. I saw your brother."

"You saw Frank?" This seemed to have gained James the girl's attention.

He ignored the fact that it had taken talking of her brother to get it, and instead just relished in having it. "Yeah, he popped by to talk to Lucian around lunchtime. I made lunch today, Sal, you would have loved it – I made pasta. Maybe on your next day off you can come around and I'll make some for you?"

Sally just continued wiping down the side. "I can't," she said obvious to the fact she was being asked out, "Next day off Nina and I are going shopping for Reggie Kenton's birthday. Besides, I can cook pasta at home whenever – I do work in a pub, James."

This clear lack of acknowledgment of his attempts to impress her and rejection of a date did not faze James. He just continued: "Yeah, but it would be nice to get away from everyone for a while and just relax right? Well, you could do that at mine – Fred has moved out now he's married so there's that spare room."

"More people live in your flat than live in my house, James. I think I'll get far more relaxation at home where it is just Mum and me most of the time, than listening to you and Wood barking off about quidditch," she told him, smiling amused by his offer. "If you're saying all of this because of how you acted last week, I assure you you're forgiven. I've dealt with you being drunk plenty of times before – maybe not as bad as last week, but still I think I'd be more worried about you if you managed to stay sober for an entire evening."

She walked off down the bar then to serve an odd looking witch with a glass eye.

"How is it going?" Nina asked in her friend's absence.

She had been shooed away from the customer she was serving after spilling tea on him and so now had little to do considering the tea-stained man, the old lady and James made up a third of the customers currently in the pub.

Despite Nina's constantly sunny disposition, James gave her a sharp stare in reply.

"That doesn't answer my question," she stated. Nina was not talented at reading people.

"It is going fine, Hall. How are you and Lucian going?" he asked, trying to change the subject. As much as James would like some advice on how to deal with Sally, Nina was not the person to get it from until he was truly desperate. For a trustworthy Hufflepuff, Nina couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"Great. We're-" she began but could not finish:

"Right, okay, Hall, but in truth I don't care-" James said quickly, seeing that Sally was returning to his end of the bar.

Nina blew her fringe out of her face and walked off, leaving James to continue bugging Sally.

"So this new cook you've got-"

"What about him?" Sally asked. She seemed completely uninterested in the conversation, amusing herself by stacking up glasses.

"Well, can he cook pasta?"

"He is a professional chef, James."

"Pasta is a delicate art."

"It's not, James. It really isn't."

James once more was not put off. "Well, can he play quidditch?"

"I refer back to: he's a chef."

"Are you saying he can't play quidditch? Because I can play quidditch and I can cook pasta."

"What is this about, James? Are you after Will's job?" Sally asked. She stopped stacking the glasses to instead stare at him looking thoroughly unamused. She had no idea why James Potter had decided that his latest hobby would be disturbing her at work. It wasn't busy at all so she actually had nothing really to do, but that was beside the point.

"What? No! I'm a professional quidditch player."

"Then what are you trying to get at?"

"Well I just don't know if I trust this new cook…"

"Trust him?" This had Sally letting out a slight chuckle, "We're not asking you to have him as your secret keeper, James. Just eat his food. Speaking of, you haven't ordered anything."

"I haven't got any money on me." He admitted, distracted by the realisation of how cute the slight scoff of a chuckle she made when she was spontaneously amused was.

"Why are you here then?"

Coming to his senses, he quickly changed the subject: "What are William's credentials? Are you certain he can actually cook?" so she didn't ask him to leave.

"If you order something we will find out."

"So you haven't tried any of his food?" James asked, unable to help but to add, "So my pasta-making abilities _could _be far better than his?"

At that moment, a gentleman who had undoubtedly passed the age of forty stepped out from the little doorway which led to the kitchen. It was quite a comical sight considering he was rather plump and therefore passage through the door was not the easiest thing to do.

"Hi, urm, Sally," the man said. His voice was low and brummie. "I was wondering if you could show me where the key to the backdoor is so I can take out the rubbish…"

"Oh, it is just in the tin on the window sill over the sink, Will," she replied, watching then as the man walked back off into the kitchen.

"_That _is Will?" James suddenly felt a whole lot more relaxed.

"Yes. Why?" She raised her eyebrows at him with quizzical teasing, "Do you want me to introduce you?"

"Why would I-?" he stammered.

Sally gave him a raise of her eyebrows.

"What?! No! I like-" Shit. James rattled his brain trying to think of a very casual and classy way to say 'you.' "I like blondes."

"I think Will is a blonde," was Sally's immediate reply.

"He's not blonde, he's bald."

"Bald people still have hair colours, James."

"Well then I like someone with a little more hair. You know? And- and brown-ish," he squinted, checking that what he was saying matched with her appearance, "eyes."

"Well you're not going to find anyone like that in here. The closest one to that description is Frank and he has blue eyes." Sally was only jesting before, but nevertheless grew serious now as she remarked, "Look James, go find your blonde haired girl somewhere else. If you want to be in here, you have to at least buy something."

And so whilst Sally went off to help Nina deal with the man who was now screaming at her for spilling yet more tea on him, James sulked off back to his flat.


End file.
